


Dusting Down the Stars

by seamanzilla



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble Collection, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Spacer (Mass Effect), War Hero (Mass Effect), Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamanzilla/pseuds/seamanzilla
Summary: A collection of Mass Effect drabbles to challenge myself as well as to practice my narrative, fictional writing skill. OU, same F/Shepard throughout. Takes place throughout all three games, not in chronological order. My goal is to keep pieces between 100-1,000 words. Will add tags as they apply.





	1. Leap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time posting ever to AO3 after lurking here for well over 3 years! Hope you all enjoy, and please leave feedback :D

Amelia looked out over the small terrace cradling a ceramic mug of steaming tea as she leaned against the railing before taking a tentative sip. The fragrant liquid scalded her mouth and tongue as she forced a swallow with a wince. A sigh escaped her lips as she looked over the lake that spread across the horizon between the various parks and store fronts. The year was 2172 CE; today was her last day as a civilian, before being shipped off for Alliance training.

She was alone in her mothers apartment, not having any friends on the Citadel and Hannah was busy with Alliance business up in the Presidium. Amelia didn't mind, preferring to be alone in the peaceful atmosphere. She sighed again and shivered anxiously as her imagination ran wild with the anticipation of training and her future career. The uncertainty of it all made her tummy quiver. Was she to be stationed on a frigate exploring the traverse, a modern day conquistador? Or was she doomed to stand at attention all day, waiting on some mildly important diplomat finish a meeting somewhere on Earth? She took a larger sip of tea after letting it cool for a minute, the bitter taste of artificial sweetener following the tang of lemongrass.

High up above, her light green eyes silently observed the pedestrians below by the lake, savoring the last few hours of freedom she had. She closed her eyes and listened to the songs of alien birds, their voices familiar yet beautifully peculiar. A faint air current pulled at her sandy hair, carrying the scent of the strange flowers below and reminded her of the brief visits to Earth she rarely got to enjoy as a spacer. She felt the slightly warm artificial light, and tried to imagine the last time she was on Earth.

 

* * *

 

“Shepard.” A hoarse voice gasped in the darkness, cutting through a dissipating ringing. “Shepard, you need to get up. Shepard!” Panic laced the male voice, and Shepard opened her eyes at his shaking. She was met with the strong taste of copper on her tongue, the smell of burnt plastic and hair in her nose, and the bloodied face of her squad mate over her. “Oh, thank God.” He sighed before helping her up.

“What happened?” She asked, sitting up and bringing the room into focus and piecing together the memories from moments before. A colony compartment came back into focus, a dead Batarian several meters away. She stood up, wincing at the sharp stab in her rib cage before applying pressure to her wound. She spat out a glob of blood and did a mental check list of her body, ensuring everything was there and in working order. She straightened and pulled her hand from her side, palm coming away bloody.

Her squad mate spat towards the Batarian as the rest of her squad did final sweeps of the living quarters. “This bastard here managed to throw out a grenade before we managed to take him out. Nearly blew you back to Earth. Good thing we were issued shields, eh?”

“Yeah, good thing” She huffed nervously before picking up her Avenger. Her shield modulator sizzled angrily as it attempted to recharge, and she quickly applied medigel to her wound. Relief swept through her as her skin tingled.

“Regroup. We need to find the last of the colonists.” She ordered, straightening herself up to her full commanding height. What was left of her squad resumed their formation, guns at the ready.


	2. Nudge

Damp hair framed Amelia's face as she removed her mug of water from the galley microwave, her finger mashing the _finished!_ button to end the obnoxious chime. She dropped in a dehydrated cube, tore open a sugar syrup packet mislabeled as honey with her teeth, and squeezed the viscus substance into her mug. A gentile tinkling filled the room as she stirred her tea with a general issue, slightly scratched metal spoon.

 “Rough night?” a voice purred behind her. Garrus sauntered towards her with an air of bravado despite his damaged armor and bandaged face.

 “Mm,” she hummed with closed eyes, trying her best to enjoy the taste of artificial lemongrass. Her headache eased a bit, but her muscles still burned with overuse from the day before. Her hands tightened around the warm mug, glowing scars stretching on her skin - the constant reminder that she was medically dead not even 48 hours ago. Garrus even earlier than that, after the rocket strike from the merc attack. He had flat-lined on the transport back to the Normandy for one of the most frightening thirty seconds of her life. Her head started to swim at the thought before is was cut off. 

 “Now, tea I understand. But why add sugar to something meant to be tart?” He asked, moving to lean on the counter next to her. “Seems like it defeats the purpose, if I could drink the stuff.”

 She took another sip, taking an appreciative glance at the Turian: mandibles slack in a smirk, arms crossed, but eyes betraying the exhaustion he tried to hide. A fleet feeling of affection pulsed through her at his attempt at distracting small talk. She missed him and was glad to see that he had become more casual around her. A friend, not just a teammate. The two years on Omega had changed his mannerisms, but at a heavy cost. She had noticed how dark his face looked before he realized she was there when she went to visit him in the battery a few hours ago. 

 “Look,” he sighed when she did not reply right away, “I know a thing or two about sleepless nights. If you need someone to talk to, I'll be your ear.”

 She smiled over the rim of her tartly sweet drink as an elbow gently nudged her side.

 


	3. Stardust

The cabin was dim, the only source of light was the bubbling fish tank. A moan escaped her lips as Garrus licked at her between her thighs, naked body bowing with pleasure. She reached her hand down to rest it encouragingly on his head and lightly scratched his crest, the other balling the sheets in her fist. His own moan vibrated through to her very core. 

Her eyes opened with heavy lids to the open void of stars above her bed, and her chest tightened. Lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and the warm sweat from pleasure quickly turned cold. She can't breathe, the hissing of escaping oxygen from her damaged suit filling the silence. Her fingers released the gripped sheets and flung from Garrus to grab at the back of her neck. Her body spinning, spinning towards the stark planet below, line of sight dimming, legs kicking uselessly against the lack of gravity, the end, everything gone, Sovereign's last words echoing through the void, lost, without hope, Harbinger lazily floating towards her to collect her body as her lungs gasped at nothing but stardust, nothing but dust -

"Shepard?" A worried voice cut through it all and grounded her back to reality. She gasped when she realized she had been holding her breath. Garrus gazed up at her, chin wet and mandibles tight with worry. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she muttered weakly, wiping sweat off her brow with her forearm. Then, "I'm sorry."

Standing up while cleaning off his chin, Garrus peered at her and she can tell he is thinking. Then, he climbed into bed next to her, lust completely forgotten. He wiggled his arm beneath her head, allowing her to snuggle into his side. She danced her fingers absentmindedly across his skin.

"Are we doing enough?" She asked, letting her exhaustion seep into her voice. "Garrus, is it enough? The Crucible? The treaties and armistices? What do we do if it's not?" Her voice was on the verge of breaking.

His arm pulled her tighter, chest vibrating as he hummed in thought. "I think," he started slowly, "That no matter what, it will be. It must be." His mandible brushed her hair gently as he spoke. "But do you know what the best part about a battle that decides the whole fate of the galaxy?"

"Beating it?," she replied, the corners of her mouth slightly turning up.

"It's a good excuse the remind the ones you care about that, well, you care about them."

Love pushed all other thoughts out of her head. Here he was, comforting her yet never asking for it back despite all he has been through. Earth was a short FTL jump away, both prepared to jump into the maw of chaos. She looked up at him, rolled on top, and pressed her forehead to his.

"I don't know what I would do without you," she whispered, her long hair curtaining their kiss.


	4. Spacer Immunity

A sniffle from behind a helmet earned a curious glance from Ashley as they worked to free the Asari scientist from the strange Prothean trap.

“Getting sick, Skipper?” She inquired with a smirk.

“Didn't know you would get sick after visiting the Citadel once. Must be a Spacer thing. Weakened immune system.” Kaiden chimed in.

“Lock it up you two,” Shepard ordered, finally figuring out how to free Dr. T'Soni. More to herself than her team, “I am not getting sick.”

“See, that is _exactly_ what someone who is getting sick would say.”

“Alenko, I swear-” Shepard started before she coughed wetly for a second.

“I hate to interrupt,” piqued Liara, with all intention of interrupting, “But perhaps we should get out of here.”

Shepard sniffled again. “Know anyway to get out of here?”

Soft blue eyes glanced between the three of them nervously. “There is an elevator behind you. At least, I think it is an elevator. It should take us out of here.” She activated the control panel. “And perhaps you should get that cold looked at when you get the chance.”

The earth shook suddenly.

“Uh, what the hell was that?” Ashley asked, leering almost accusingly at Liara.

“We have to hurry, the whole place is caving in. The mining laser must have triggered some sort of seismic event.” Liara explained as she frantically tried to get the elevator moving. Shepard did not waste any time.

“Joker, get the Normandy air-born and lock onto my signal. We need immediate evac.”

The elevator lurched to life as Joker com'ed back. “Aye aye commander, ETA eight minutes.”

The ride was surprisingly short to the surface, but the group was greeted by a squad of Geth with a Krogan leading point.

Shepard puffed her chest. “Any reason you're in my way?” she asked as threatening as her growingly nasal voice could manage. Another single, wet cough punctuated her sentence as she maintained eye contact.

The Krogan merely sneered down at her. “Are you sick, human?”

“Oh, I do not have time for this,” She huffed as she prepped her biotics for a shockwave, not caring too much about the conversation anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagined that being a spacer and thus living on a sterile ship your whole life would result in a weakened immune system like the Quarians. 
> 
> I personally feel that dialog transitions were always my weak point, and decided to fill this one up with banter to get some practice in.


	5. Tableau

With glazing eyes, Shepard gazed at the space battle that ensued outside of the Citadel window. Another Alliance cruiser exploded in silence, light momentarily blinding her. The quiet in the room was suffocating as she tried to stay conscious.

  _What a view._

 “Anderson,” she whispered weakly, ribs screaming out in pain with each breath. With all the might in the world, she lolled her head to look at him. His face was the most peaceful she had ever seen it and the realization settled in her stomach. She shuddered a mournful breath.

 Fighting the darkness that was edging more and more into her vision, she looked down at herself – burnt armor, cracked plates, skin broken and singed. An insurmountable amount of pain now dulling from dying nerves. She had never stopped bleeding, she realised as she looked at her slick hand.

 A laugh of delirium almost escaped her lips. She had forgotten her favorite mug up in her cabin at her computer. A final cup of tea poured and forgotten. She wondered where the Normandy was in this tableau that stretched in front of her, Earth the canvas.

  _The first time I've sat down in a lifetime._

 Then, tears bubbled up from it all. She had failed them all. Watched her team almost get killed by Harbinger's beam, carrying Garrus to the Normandy, listening to whispered words of love he made as she left him for the last time. The Illusive Man surprising her on the Citadel after wading through the bodies being picked at by Keepers. Eyes wide with fear as he made her shoot Anderson, and eyes narrowed with hate as she shot him between the eyes after shaking off his influence. All this way to just bleed out on the floor, frustrated at it all.

 “Shepard? Commander!” Hacket radioed to her. She fought to bring everything back into focus.

 “I-what do you need me to do?” She groaned, fighting against her dying body to try and stand.

 “Nothing is happening. The Crucible is not firing.”

 Standing up on one knee, she pushed to right herself only to fall back down pitifully on herself. She gasped out in pain and frustration.

 “It must be something on your end.”

 She crawled her way to the panel, vision fading as black walls moved in, a feeling familiar of Alchera.

 “Commander Shepard!”

 “I-I don't see.” Her voice hoarsed, fading. “I'm not sure-how to-” She desperately grasped toward the panel, lurching to try and make it the last of the way. It was too much. She fell a final time.

 Nothing but darkness.

 A peaceful death after all.

  _I'm proud of you._

 


	6. Cultist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who has given kudos and subscribed to the story. It's the little things that count and it's nice to know that people are enjoying what I am writing. 
> 
> A little jaunty short for you after the seriousness of last chapter.

_When did my life become one of those vid dramas.._   Shepard thought in exasperation. 

Nassana turned away from the twilit horizon to smirk at her. "I'm sure you find this all very ironic." She looked back out over the city. "First you take care of my sister and now you're here for me." She sighed lightly and turned to face her group. "Well, you made it this far. Now what?"

Shepard gives a weak shrug while Tali and Garrus keep their guns pointed at the mercenaries. "You really think I'm here to kill you?" 

Her guards look between themselves, unsure. Nassana starts to pace in front of her damned window like some sort of vid villain. "Do you have another reason for destroying my tower? Decimating my security?"

A few grains of drywall snowed down on her. "I'm just looking for-" a loud scrape comes from the ducting followed my the sound of someone crawling through the metal. She flits her eyes above, then back to the guards. They don't seem to notice. _Are they deaf?_ "-someone" she finished. Garrus and Tali both looked at her, and she can tell that Garrus was trying so  _hard_ not to laugh. His mandibles twitched, trying to keep a straight face. 

If Nassana was taken aback by that revelation, she hid it well. "What is it you want, credits? Name your price."

Shepard crossed her arms, amused with the situation. How could they not here that noise? The assassin is skilled in the art of sneaking, just not in half built buildings. "No amount of credits in the world will make your problem go away." More dust. Garrus's mandibles twitched for a second before becoming still again. 

Nassana became agitated and walked towards her. Both guards raised their guns back at them again. "We both kill people for money, what's the difference?"

"I only kill people when they leave me no choice" she retorted, mouth slight turning up at the corners. The noise was getting louder. It seemed that the assassin just stopped caring if they heard him or not. 

Nassana must be ignoring the sound if she didn't hear it by now. "You've got a choice." She started. Her guards looked between them again before looking up. "You don't have to do this. I can tell you- what?" She spat out to her guard, who were now aiming their guns up at the drywall. 

One of the Asari spoke up. "I heard something."

She heard Garrus mutter under his breath. "Finally." Shepard huffed a short laugh. Nassana looked back at them, looking even more annoyed at their inside joke. 

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go check the other entrances." She pointed a finger at Shepard as though she was training a Varren. "You, stay put."

As a few of her guards started to move out, a lithe figure fell from an open vent and snapped the neck of the nearest one. Nassana still droned on, oblivious. Shepard stood there dumbfounded at how incognizant they all were. The assassin managed to throat-punch another of her guard before she noticed. 

Tali whistled at how smoothly the Drell managed to take out all the guards with a pistol he grabbed from one. With brevity, he twisted and buried the nuzzle of his borrowed handgun into Nassana's belly. 

"Wha-?" A single shot rang out. As gently as with a lover, the Drell embraced Nassana's fall and lowered her down onto her desk. He crossed her arms across her chest before taking a step back. He folded his hands in front of himself and bowed his head as if in prayer. 

"Impressive," Garrus started "You certainly-" he fought a chortle "know how to make an entrance." 

The Drell ignored him. 

Shepard cleared her throat. "I was hoping to talk to you." 

He still ignored them for an awkward amount of time before speaking. His voice was solemn. "I'm apologize, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."

"Great, a cultist Drell." Garrus sighed. Tali punched him on the shoulder. 


	7. Big Sur

 

Ocean mist kissed her face, salt collecting on her eyelashes. A cruel wave crashed against the granite rocks, each one a sentinel constantly berated by the sea. The kelp reminded her of hair, tendrils constantly pushed and pulled by the tide. A gull overhead with black squares on its wings called out overhead, a warning of the coming storm. The smell of the ocean caressed her senses as she inhaled the moist air deeply. She dug her toes deeper in the cold sand as a harbor seal slid back into the sea from its perch on the rocks. She spied a small red crab desperately cling to a rock, the sea trying to bring it back into its depths.

Her first time back on Earth in almost eight years and she was trying to make the most of it. She had driven down the coast of California during a rare day off from an Alliance muster in San Francisco. Stopping in a small town called Caramel-by-the-Sea was a good idea. It was small town, a rarity these days, that hugged the rocky coast on one side and was hugged by berry farms on the other. She had enjoyed her time away from the Alliance, however temporary. It was refreshing to have her feet back on the ground, so to speak, and to talk with the locals. Nobody here seemed to know her.

She continued to watch the frothing sea, green fingers continuing to reach for the shore only to be pulled back by the tide. She sighed. Perhaps she would stop by that bakery that made its granola in house and provided a water pitcher filled with lemon and cucumber slices again before leaving. She liked that place – small, cozy, located next to a historic post office that was turned into a museum filled with school tour groups. So peaceful here, despite the siege on Earth; this place untouched by the war that ravaged the entire galaxy.

The lone gull that had been hovering above her, held up by the gusting wind, twisted its head to her with an intense eye. _This feels wrong. Why am I here?_ It cried out again, the screech distorted. Its eye was red. Its beak opened to the sound of a Reaper cry.

The granite started to crumble into the water and the wind whipped at her hair, sand scratching her face. The beach beneath her turned into mud and held her in place.

_Shepard._ The wind whispered.

The sea surged towards her, kelp fronds turning into dead hands. She panicked then as the freezing waters washed over her, slimy hands grabbing at her limbs. She tried to scream, but that only allowed the water to rush into her lungs.

_This is not your domain. You have breached the darkness._ The Leviathan roared from the deep. _Your mind belongs to me._

She looked up to the last of the light, filtering down through the waves.

“Shepard, wake up! She's freezing!”

She couldn't breathe, the water crushed her lungs. Her eyes snapped open to see the ceiling of the Kodiak and Garrus squatted over and lightly slapping her face. She coughed harshly, and instantly rolled over to vomit forth saltwater. Tears stung her eyes as the pain racked through her. She inhaled for a brief second before a second rush of water escaped her mouth.

Garrus waited patiently for her, his body almost sagging as he reached up to stabilize himself with the grip above his head.

“You okay?” He asked when she finally took in a full lung of air.

She coughed again before answering. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.” She brushed a hand under her nose, looking at the puddle of watered down blood. She licked her lips, tasting more. “Hell of a headache though.”

He looked at her with soft eyes, the emotion indeterminable behind the hard face and stiff mandibles.

“Never do that again.”

She gave him a significant look before attempting to stand up.

 

 


	8. Krissmist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday this year! Probably one of the longer drabbles I've written, but enjoy!

Shepards fingers hovered over the keys of her computer as she hesitated. The single, vertical line of the email text box blinked at her as she wracked her brain for a reply. Not a single message from her mother since her 'resurrection' until today. Her eyes flashed back down to reread the words for the third time.

 

 

> _Amelia,_
> 
> _I am trying my best to try to get you out of your situation. It is unfortunate that the relationship between the Alliance and the Hegemony was already strained to the point of breaking before the Mass Relay incident. My supervisors are trying to put out the proverbial fires, but they are going to try and get this to be in your favour. We are doing our best here, but the Council is of no help and are staying neutral. Reapers? There just isn't enough evidence at the moment._
> 
> _I hope you are well, and no matter what, I am proud of you._
> 
> _Have a Merry Christmas. Hope to see you before your trial on Earth._
> 
> _With Love,_
> 
> _Hannah_

 

She huffed a sigh at the impersonal message before giving up to watch her fish swim back and forth. Most of her non-Alliance crew had left the Normandy in lieu of her turning herself in on Earth. Only a select few remained who had requested to be dropped off elsewhere as well as a skeleton maintenance team. Overall, it had been a dull, if depressing day. She had completely forgotten what day it was until her mothers message. She wondered if her crew was in the berthing space below, celebrating in their own way. She suddenly felt lonely.  

As she contemplated leaving her cabin, a knock echoed from her hatch.

"Come in," she called from her desk, quickly closing her email. 

It was Garrus who sauntered in, visor glowing and mandibles loose and relaxed. 

"Hey," he greeted. "Figured you needed some company."

She smiled at him and rose from her desk chair, making for the couch so they could sit together. "Yeah, you always had a knack for knowing what I need most."  

 "That I do," he chuckled at her, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief as he sat down next to her. Shepard offered him a drink and he quickly accepted before she poured her own. 

He took a sip before clearing his throat. "Hey, so I have something for you that I picked up at the Citadel." 

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled over her glass. "Oh, really? What's the occasion?" The heady smell of wine filled her nose and she gulped some down. Garrus set his glass down before rummaging through one of his pockets and pulled out a hologram disc He set in on the table next to his glass and pressed a button.  

A little, bright hologram Christmas tree came to life. Its twinkling lights blinked between red, blue, orange, and green. A golden star shone at its peak. She blinked down at it, very taken aback. This was the last gift she expected from him. "Oh, wow Garrus, thanks. I don't know what to make of it."

He seemed to notice her surprise. "I overheard from the shop clerk that a major Human holiday was coming up. I think he referred to it as _Krissmist_ -?" her translator frizzed out there for a second as he attempted to say an English word. "I don't know much about Human customs, but I did a bit of research and read that you guys worship some kind of fat, old man who leaves you gifts. And that you cut down trees only to put lights on them. When I asked about it, he simply suggested I get this." She smiled at his attempt to describe the holiday from an outside point of view, which earned a grin back from him. 

 He leaned close to her to place his hand over hers. "But I read it is also mostly about spending time with family, friends, and people you care about. Since you're a little lacking on one of those, I hope that I fall into the latter two categories."  

She turned her hand over in his to lock fingers with him, squeezing in reassurance. "I think you hit all of the major parts. Although, it is mostly about worshiping fat, old men." 

He pressed her down to the couch, giggles escaping from her as he peppered her face with alien kisses. 


End file.
